Strange Hungers
by brainy-brownie123
Summary: Damon discovers that Elena actually does like pickles, and many other bizarre things, but only when she's eating for two.
1. Chapter 1

As soon as Damon walked through the door of the boarding house, he was met with the strong, sharp scent of vinegar. His nostrils flared as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Elena?" he called out down the hallway.

"In here," she said sang from the kitchen.

When Damon pushed open the kitchen door, the scent of vinegar grew stronger and he became more confused as he saw what was surrounding him.

"What is going on?" Damon murmured to himself as his eyes scanned the several jars sitting on the kitchen counter that were all filled with vinegar and cucumbers.

Damon turned around to see Elena reaching down from a cabinet with a jar of peanut butter in one hand, and when she turned he saw she had a half eaten pickle in the other. Looking between her arms, he could clearly see an apparent bump under her fitted t-shirt. He sighed tenderly and then moved his focus back to the pickle.

"What are you doing?" he asked, exasperated.

"I wanted a pickle," she said simply and shrugged, "could you get me a spoon?"

"But you hate pickles," Damon said opening the cutlery drawer.

"Yeah, but you don't, so therefore this baby must love them," she said taking another bite of the pickle while also trying to open the jar of peanut butter.

"Yay dominate traits!" he said grinning.

"Ugh, great," Elena sighed, "the baby's going to have black hair and be a mischievous anti-hero with sarcastic tendencies."

Damon went over and wrapped his arms around Elena's waist. "Yes, but it'll have your eyes, and apparently your love of peanut butter, blah," he said feigning disgust.

She sighed and said, "I'm sorry if this is weird," looking around at the several jars of pickled cucumbers.

"It's okay, but why didn't you just drive to the store, or call me to pick some up after work?"

"Oh, I didn't think of just going to the store, duh, and I didn't want to bother you with a non-emergency. I had been craving a pickle for hours, so I guess my brain started acting irrationally. Since we didn't have any pickles in the house, I decided I would just make them myself, I found the instructions online. I think it worked out pretty well," she smiled.

"Where did you get all the jars?"

"Oh I dumped some old strawberry jam down the sink and washed out the jars."

"Hmm," he shrugged and bent down to kiss her on the lips.

"Mmm, taste's pretty good, I think I'll grab one of those. Is this batch ready?" he said reaching to the nearest jar.

"Oh no you don't!" she exclaimed pushing her arms out protectively around the jars.

"Oh come on Elena, you have at least a two month's supply of pickles, and I can't have one?"

"Nope these are ours," she said with her hand over her belly, "make your own, the vinegar's in the pantry."

"You're mean when you're pregnant," he grumbled.

"Yay dominate traits!" she exclaimed and bounced out the door with a jar in her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay readers just a heads up, this one involves something a bit more peculiar than pickles, but it is a real thing that many pregnant women get, especially if they have an iron deficiency. **

* * *

All right that was it, he knew he shouldn't have left her to do it herself. Damon sighed as he put his book down and got out of his bed. Damon had spent the last hour reading while also carefully listening for the washing machine to start filling with water, since Elena had left a long time ago saying she was going to do the laundry.

Damon sighed loudly as he went down the stairs and turned into the laundry room.

He found Elena standing still in front of the open washing machine with a box of detergent in her hands. She was just standing there, almost in a trance, about to scoop out a cup of the washing powder. She didn't even notice Damon had arrived, just kept her eyes trained on the white grains of power sliding back and forth as she tilted the box with her hand.

"Elena, what are you doing?" Damon commanded.

Elena jumped and turned around looking guilty. She quickly composed her face and calmly said, "Oh I was just about to put a load of laundry on."

"No you weren't," Damon challenged.

The guilty expression returned to her face as she surrendered to what he was implying. "I'm sorry," she whined, "I can't help it, it just looks so good, I want to try it so bad!"

"You can't, you're talking about laundry detergent, Elena."

"I know," she groaned, "I know, but I still want it. I want to feel the grittiness of the powder in my teeth, and it smells so good, I think it will taste good too." Elena gasped, "You should try some with me, then you won't think it's so weird."

"Uh, I think I'll pass. So I'll just pour a cup of that stuff into the washer, and then we can get out of here," Damon said cautiously.

"No," Elena tried for confidence, "I can do it, I have self-control."

Damon watched with weary eyes as Elena got a scoop of a power and slowly poured it into the washing machine. Damon focused on Elena's face as she kept her eyes trained on the waterfall of white and blue grains as they left the scooper and fell down into the basin of dirty clothes. She slowly moved her other hand to intercept the waterfall of detergent and let a bit of the power fall into her hand. She slowly moved her hand to her mouth, licked her lips, and then delicately licked the power.

"Mmm," she groaned, savoring the gritty texture and soapy bitterness.

"Alright," Damon said, gently grabbing her arm and closing the washing machine door, "you've had your taste, now that's it, okay?"

"Fine," Elena grumbled.

* * *

A few days later, Damon sighed as he put his book down and started walking down the stairs. This time his ears had picked up on a faint sniffing sound that he had come to register as Elena crying, normally from hormones, and always something minor and vaguely humorous. Damon paused as Elena stepped from out of the laundry room and turned to face him. Her cheeks were pink and tear streaked, and her eyes were raging with vexation and pregnancy hormones.

"What is this!" she accused shoving a bottle of liquid detergent into his face.

"Elena, I had to switch to liquid, you kept trying to _eat _the powder," Damon tried to rationalize.

Elena cried out in frustration and ran into Damon's arms.

"Ahh, it's not fair, I could handle it, I just liked the smell and the look, I wasn't actually going to eat the whole thing, I just wanted a taste," she cried. "I hate being pregnant, I don't want to crave detergent, I just do, I can't help it, and now it's gone!"

Damon sighed and rolled his eyes, "I kept a tiny stash of it in the cupboard under the sink in our bathroom."

"Really? Oh, Damon, you're going to love it when you try it!" she exclaimed running up the stairs.

Damon rolled his eyes and prayed for the day when these bizarre cravings would end. _Probably not till the day the baby's born, _he thought dismally yet amusingly.

* * *

**The next chapter has nothing to do with eating detergent, I promise.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I dedicate this chapter to meskin 10 who encouraged me to continue this story.**

**Okay readers; prepare yourselves for some crazy hormones, hilarious, but crazy.**

* * *

"Elena, I'm going to work," Damon called up the stairs.

"Wait, wait," Elena said turning around the corner, "I need your opinion on something."

"Okay," he said.

"Does this dress make me look fat?"

"No," he said quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You're not just saying that?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Really stop and think about it, take your time."

"Elena," he sighed, "you are not fat, you're pregnant."

She frowned, looking down at her dress.

"Your feet on the other hand, are fat," he said, hoping to make her laugh.

She froze, frowned and flashed her eyes at him menacingly.

"Oh just go to work," she said icily, "I changed my mind, I don't want your opinion."

"Wait, Elena," he reached out to her, "I'm sorry."

"No," she snapped, "sorry isn't good enough. Not for that. I'm carrying your child and you have the audacity to say that I have fat feet."

"I'm sorry, it was stupid, and I shouldn't have said that. What can I do to make it up to you?" he pleaded.

"No!" she yelled, "there is no redemption for what you've done! I hate you!" Then she paused, and giggled.

"I hate you!" she yelled even louder and then laughed, getting louder and even more hysterical.

"Okay," Damon said cautiously, "I'm just going to go to work now."

"You would abandon your wife when her hormones were a _little_ out of control?" she laughed. "Of course you would," she laughed, "you would also say… you would also say…. that…. that she has fat feet." She laughed and gasped for air.

"Elena, I love you, goodbye," Damon said, "call me if you need anything."

"Oh yeah," Elena challenged, "you think I need you? Well, I don't need you for anything!"

Damon grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

While at work, Damon's cellphone started ringing so he quickly grabbed it and hit answer.

"Hello?"

"Damon," Elena giggled and then sniffed.

"Elena, is everything okay?"

She laughed and then sniffed again, "yes… and no."

"Well what's wrong?" he asked concerned.

"I was bored," she laughed, "so I turned on the TV and this add came on." She started laughing.

"Yes, and?"

"And the ad," she laughed, "the add had all of these sad animals in cages and a really sad song started playing." She started laughing.

"So why are you laughing?"

"I don't know," she gasped, "Damon there were sad dogs, and sad cats, and some of them were rescued from being abused." She gasped again and instead of laughing, started sniffling.

"Elena, do you need me to come home?" he sighed.

"No, no," Elena said, breathing a bit more calmly, "I'm okay. But, we have to help these animals, it's only eight dollars a month, Damon can we donate to the animal shelter?"

"Yes, of course we can."

"And if you donate right now, you get a free t-shirt. I should probably get a larger size so I can wear it later on in the pregnancy. Oh, the largest size they have is an extra large," she paused, "I'm already an extra large, and I'm only three months along, I'm going to get so fat that I won't fit into the animal shelter t-shirt," she cried into the phone.

"Elena, we've already had this conversation," Damon warned.

"Yeah and then you told me that I had fat feet!" she yelled.

"Elena I have work to do, so I'm going to hang up," Damon said.

"No, you don't get that satisfaction," she snapped, "I'm hanging up on you!" And then the line went dead.

Damon sighed and went back to work, but soon the phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"I'm bored," she laughed into the phone.

"Well, I just got to work, why don't you call Bonnie until I get back."

Elena's laughter abruptly stopped and Damon held his breath as he heard the sniffs that signified that Elena was about to cry.

"What did I say this time?" he asked.

"Bonnie doesn't want to talk to me," she cried.

"Why not? She's your best friend, I'm sure she wants to talk to you."

"No she doesn't, she doesn't want to be my friend. She doesn't want to be my friend because she think's I'm fat and Bonnie doesn't want to have a fat friend," Elena cried into the phone.

"Oh for crying out loud," Damon said and then hung up the phone.

Elena tried calling back several times but Damon let the phone go to voicemail. Then, Liz Forbes was walking into his office.

"Hello Boss, what can I do for you today?" he asked.

"It's Elena, she's on the phone for you. It sounds urgent," she said concerned.

"Oh, no it's not, why don't you just tell her that I'm busy."

"Damon," Liz frowned, "your wife is pregnant and she needs your support."

"Yes, but she's crazy."

"Damon Salvatore answer that phone right now or you're fired, I can't believe you would act like this towards Elena."

"Fine," he said picking up the phone, "hello."

"Damon," Elena whispered into the phone.

"What?" he snapped and Liz looked at him sharply.

"Never mind," she whispered.

"No, what is it?" he sighed looking up at Liz.

"It's not important."

"Elena why did you call me this time?"

"To say I'm sorry," she said cautiously.

"Sorry for what exactly?"

"For the thing with the dress and then the crying, and the yelling, and then calling you with more laughing and crying and then yelling."

"It's okay," he sighed, "you don't have to apologize. I understand."

"Okay," she sighed. "And I also called to tell you," she paused and giggled.

"Yes?" he said agitated again.

"To tell you that, I might have fat feet, and cry all the time, but at least I don't fall for a fake apology." She started laughing hysterically again.

"Okay, I don't exactly understand what's so funny," Damon said.

"You seriously though I would apologize," Elena laughed.

"Well, yeah, you were acting crazy."

"Are you kidding?" she laughed, "I'm pregnant, so of course I'm crazy."

"You think that's an excuse?"

"You are hilarious, of course it's an excuse! I'm carrying your child, I can do whatever I want and act as crazy as I want to! And you can't say anything about it for fear you might upset me! It's hilarious for me! It must suck for you!" she laughed into the phone.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now, I'll see you when I get home," Damon said, and then added, "I love you" when Liz gave him a look.

"So how's Elena handling the pregnancy?" Liz asked.

"Oh she's handling it really well," he said genuinely, "no problems whatsoever."

* * *

**So readers what do you think? I'm sorry Elena's so immature, but it's meant to be funny. I thought Damon was very patient. Let me know in your review.**

**Thank you readers for reading! Thank you reviewers for reviewing!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope it's funny, let me know. Thank you ShayShay305 and Debbie1689 for your reviews!**

* * *

Damon sighed, relaxing under the covers in his bed as Elena sat and watched TV besides him. He had just completed his last task of the day, getting his pregnant wife into bed, and now he was ready to sleep. After convincing her to get into her pajamas, all he had to do was help her into bed, turn on the TV and then he was done; she would fall asleep before the end of her program every night. Every night, except for tonight. Elena huffed and shifted on the bed, clearly uncomfortable.

"Elena, just turn it off and try to go the sleep, please," Damon said rubbing her arm.

"No, now the next episode's come on and I have to see what happens," Elena said, entranced by the large screen lighting the dark room with its fluorescent lights reflecting off of the white comforter.

"Alright, but are you okay if I go to sleep?"

"Mmmhhmmm," she hummed.

Just as Damon was drifting off to sleep, Elena shook his arm saying, "Damon, Damon, you have to wake up and watch this ad."

Damon tried to keep his eyes open and focused on the bright TV screen, but he couldn't stop from squinting.

"Sorry, Elena, I missed it," he sighed, turning over, "you can just show me tomorrow."

"No, don't worry," Elena said happily, "I can just rewind."

Damon groaned, "what's the ad for?"

"Burritos," she sighed longingly.

Damon yawned and turned his attention to the ad replaying on the TV. He already knew where this was going. Why did they have to play food advertisements at night he thought, dreading what was about to happen next, it had already happened twice since Elena had started showing a baby bump and an interest in midnight snacks. Damon turned to see Elena's eyes trained on the burrito rotating on an invisible platform on the TV. After the ad had finished, Elena put the TV on mute and turned to Damon. The only word to explain the look in her eyes was hungry.

"Yes Elena?" Damon said.

"Damon, will you," she started.

"No," he stopped her.

"But," she said.

"No, Elena, I'm not going out to get you food at eleven at night."

"Please," she tried.

"No, if you're hungry, just go downstairs and grab something from the kitchen."

"Do we have mega meat burritos in the kitchen?"

"No," he groaned, turning away from her and pulling the covers with him, "but you can try making one."

"But we don't have the secret sauce, do we? I mean we don't have the ingredients or the recipe, because it's a secret."

"Then make the burrito without the secret sauce," he groaned.

"But then it wouldn't be a genuine mega meat burrito would it, Damon?"

"Nope."

"Please, Damon."

"No, Elena, last time I went out, I brought you a whole pizza and when I got home you were fast asleep."

"But didn't you like the pizza?"

"Yes, I just loved eating the large pizza with BBQ sauce and extra pineapple."

"Okay, now you know I don't appreciate sarcasm at night, especially when I'm pregnant," Elena warned.

"Alright then, goodnight."

"No, wait, Damon please, I have to have the burrito."

"No you don't Elena."

"Yes I do," she whispered and then turned away from him.

Damon sighed thinking she had gone to sleep, he was wrong though, because a few seconds later he was surprised with a pillow thumping hard against his back.

"Damon, please get me the burrito," she said.

"No."

"I need it," she pleaded.

"No."

"Please."

"Arg, fine, I can't believe you're making me get out of bed and go out at this time of night," he mumbled turning on the lamp.

"Oh Damon thank you," she said reaching over to give him a kiss, "you're the best husband ever."

"And don't you forget it," he warned.

"I won't, now make sure you get two burritos with no guacamole, okay?"

"You got it, two burritos coming up," he said pulling on his jeans.

"With no guacamole," she said.

"With no guacamole," he confirmed.

* * *

When Damon entered the bedroom, Elena was sitting up waiting patiently. He had hoped she would fall asleep, but he guessed she was intent on eating the food this time. Which was just perfect, he thought.

"What took you so long?" she asked.

He didn't answer.

"I hope you got extra napkins," she said.

"Elena," he started.

"Where's the bag?" she asked confused.

"Wait till I sit down," he said calmly.

Damon sat down on the bed, facing Elena, and took hold of both of her hands.

"What's going on?" she asked, confused.

"Elena, I drove over to the burrito place, and," Damon paused, not sure if she could handle this.

"And?" she asked, impatient.

"And it was closed," he said.

"It was closed?"

"Yes, it wasn't open, it closed an hour ago."

"What?" she whispered, her bottom lip trembling.

"I'm so sorry, I drove to the other location out of town, but it was closed too, I guess the burrito place isn't twenty-four hours."

"I'm not getting a burrito?" she whispered, beginning to cry.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't cry," he pleaded, "It's just a burrito."

"It wasn't just a burrito," she started to cry harder, "it was a mega meat burrito!"

"You can have one tomorrow, I'll take you out as soon as they open," he said, pushing her hair behind her ear, knowing that usually calmed her down.

"But I want one now," she cried, "I want one right now."

"I'm sorry."

"I can't believe they were closed. Are you sure they were closed?"

"Yes, all the lights were off and there wasn't a single car in the parking lot."

She sniffed, "okay, well I guess I can wait till tomorrow."

"That's my girl, now why don't you go to sleep."

"No, I want to finish my program first," she said turning to look at the TV.

"Alright, I'll watch with you until I feel tired," he said.

"Thank you for going out," she said, "I love you."

"Mmm, I love you too." Then Damon froze, on alert as he watched what happened next on the TV. _No, no, no, _he thought, _do not do what I think you're about to do Elena. _Damon cringed as he quickly realized he wasn't getting any sleep tonight, because now their was an ad for a twenty-four hour smoothie place, featuring banana mango, quickly announced to be Elena's new favorite flavor of the hour.

"Damon," Elena turned to him, "will you…"

"No, no, no, no…" he groaned, rolling out of bed.

* * *

**What did you guys think? Like Elena _needs_ her mega meat ****burritos, I _need_ your reviews!**

**Readers, thank you for reading! Reviewers, thank you for reviewing!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Elena," Damon called up the stairs, "breakfast is ready!"

"With pickles?" she asked emerging from around the corner.

"Of course," he smirked, turning away from the stove to admire his beautiful wife. His beautiful, and very pregnant wife.

"You know you really are glowing this morning," he said to her in awe.

"I know," she said simply.

"You do?" he asked, "so then it was pointless of me to try and compliment you?"

"Pretty much," she said reaching into the fridge to grab the orange juice.

"And how do you know that you glow?"

"I read."

"Elaborate, please," he said sarcastically.

"It's simple," she said, "when you're pregnant the amount of blood in your body will increase by fifty percent. This extra blood can be seen through the skin in many areas, especially the cheeks. Also, hormones cause the oil glands to become more active, resulting in a softer, shinier appearance. The extra blood flow plus the shine equals a noticeable glow."

"We couldn't just chalk it up to your excitement about becoming a mom?" he asked.

"No, pregnancy is a science, Damon."

"Well thank you for taking the magic out of it," he said.

"Any time, now where are my pickles?" she asked hungrily.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys, sorry the last chapter was so short, there really wasn't much to go on with that idea, but I just thought it was cute. Let me know what you think of this chapter, while writing it I sort of trapped the characters in an angst-y corner, and you'll be able to see it, but I managed to make a lighthearted escape, I hope.**

* * *

"Are you sure you don't need help getting down the stairs?" Damon asked to Elena as she gripped his arm and held on to the banister for support.

"Yes, yes I'm sure," Elena said, and hearing the doorbell, added, "look, there's Caroline, go and open the door for her."

"Fine, but don't walk down those stairs without me," he ordered, "I'll be right back."

"Is today the day?" Caroline asked as soon as Damon opened the door.

"No, Caroline," he sighed, "the due date is still a month away, just like it was yesterday when you asked, twice."

"Oh, someone's huffy today, feeling a little on edge lately, Damon?"

"Only because my pregnant wife makes me that way," he hissed.

"Hey Caroline," Elena panted, her voice coming from down the hall.

Damon and Caroline glanced at each other before hurrying to the hall. Elena had made it halfway down the stairs and was crouching, leaned against the wall. Her breath was coming in short pants as her shoulders hunched, and when she glanced up there was a light sheen of perspiration on her forehead.

"Elena," Damon growled, running up the stairs to meet her, "I told you to wait for me."

"Sorry," she panted, "I thought I could make it."

Damon turned and mouthed to Caroline, "See what I mean?"

Caroline nodded and announced she was going to the kitchen to get Elena a glass of water.

Against Caroline and Damon's combined arguing, Elena still wanted to go on a walk like they had planned. So Caroline made sure Elena was warm enough while Damon got his coat.

"Ah," Damon groaned, putting his arm in the sleeve, "I need a bigger jacket."

"The pregnancy filling you out, Damon?" Caroline giggled.

"What?" Damon grumbled.

"Caroline thinks you have Couvade Syndrome," Elena explained.

"Again, what?" he asked.

"Couvade comes from the French word couvee," Caroline said happily while Elena mocked her.

Caroline continued, "Which means to 'to hatch.' It's extremely common for the male to start gaining weight, get morning sickness, and even feel cramps in the lower abdomen, while his wife is pregnant."

"You know," Damon whispered, conspiratorially, "I did feel a little nauseous this morning."

"You did?" Caroline asked eagerly, hoping she was right about her theory.

"No," Damon snapped, "that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, couvee syndrome."

"Couvade," Caroline corrected, "And I don't care what you say, I know that you have it."

Damon rolled his eyes.

"I can see that you have it," Caroline mumbled, "Your expanding waistline is so obvious."

"You little…"

Elena groaned, interrupting them, "Can we just go on our walk?"

Elena walked slowly but confidently, with one hand in Damon's and the other in Caroline's, as they trudged along besides her. Hopefully this was the last weekend of winter, and the baby would be born in springtime, when everything was blooming in pastels of pink, blue, green and yellow. Damon was ready to have this baby, be done with the anxiety of waiting and start with the uncertainty of parenthood, but Elena remained stubborn, not wanting to let go of what was still under her control, still safe inside of her. Elena stopped and took a shaky breath.

"Is everything alright?" Caroline asked.

"Yeah, I just need to take a break," Elena breathed. As she hunched over, Caroline stepped in front of her to support her.

"I'm okay, it's okay now," Elena said.

"No, it's not Elena, we should go to the hospital" Damon said.

"No we shouldn't, you're being ridiculous, it's fine," she insisted.

"No, it is not Elena," he said raising his voice.

"Hey!" Caroline interrupted, "she said that she's fine, let's just wait a few minutes."

"Ah," Damon grumbled, grabbing his side.

"What is it?" Elena asked.

"Nothing," Damon said, hunching over in agony.

"Aww, sympathy pains," Caroline sighed.

"No, it's not sympathy pains," Elena said, concerned, "something could be seriously wrong with him."

"No, no, I'm fine," Damon assured them, still clutching his abdomen.

"No, you're not Damon, tell me what's wrong!" Elena insisted.

"So then you see what it's like?" Damon asked, jumping up unaffected.

"What?" Elena asked.

"What happened to your sympathy pains?" Caroline asked.

"There were no sympathy pains," Damon snapped, "I made them up to get to Elena. You can never know just how frustrating it is for me to see you in pain and then the next minute you say that it's fine and nothing's wrong."

"Because it's normal Damon," Elena said, "It's fine."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm the one that's pregnant, and I can tell."

"Yes, but then again, you're as stubborn as a mule! You probably wouldn't tell us you were going into labor until after you'd actually had the baby!"

"Hey, Damon," Caroline raised her voice, "just leave it alone!"

"Why are you defending her, you're supposed to be on my side!" he yelled.

"Your side?" Elena asked.

"Yes, the sane side, ahh!" Damon doubled over in pain.

"Oh stop with those sympathy pains, you've made your point!" Caroline snapped.

"Caroline, I don't think he's faking it," Elena said.

"No, I'm not," Damon said bending over in agony, "ah!"

"If he's not faking it, then he had Couvade Syndrome," Caroline said.

"No, I do not, I am way too masculine to get sympathy pains!" Damon groaned.

"All of the signs are there Damon!" Caroline argued, "You're just in denial!"

"If you admit that you have the syndrome," Elena said, "then I'll let you take me to the hospital."

"Really?" He asked.

She nodded.

"Alright, alright," Damon said, "I have couvade syndrome, okay now let's go to the hospital."

Elena stood up, glanced at Caroline, and started laughing.

"What?" Damon asked confused.

"You were right, that was fun," Elena smiled.

"Oh yeah," Caroline replied.

Elena laughed, "Who would have known that _the_ Damon Salvatore was acting like a pregnant woman along with his wife?"

"What is going on?" Damon asked annoyed.

"We wouldn't be able to prove it to you unless you experienced it yourself," Caroline explained.

"And you did," Elena laughed, "We just didn't realize that it would be so funny."

Damon frowned, "aren't we supposed to be going to the hospital?"

"She made it up," Caroline laughed, "she pretended to be in pain so that your syndrome would be activated."

"So you're laughing at me because I feel the pain that my wife is feeling?"

"Pretty much," Caroline giggled.

"Wait a minute, Care," Elena said seriously, "he's right, it's not funny." Turning to Damon she said, "I'm sorry, that's wasn't very nice of me was it, to pretend to be in pain just to laugh at you?"

"No, but I'm willing to forgive you, on one condition."

"What is that?"

"You can't tell anyone about this couvade syndrome, got it? Not Jeremy, not Alaric, and especially not Stefan!"

"Deal," Elena smiled.

"We really only wanted to prove it to you," Caroline said, "The other's would never believe us anyway."

"Good," Damon said, "Now while we're talking about it, how do I get rid of the expanding waistline?"

"Oh Elena," Caroline said giggling, "we should probably warn him about the stretch marks."

Damon grimaced and rolled his eyes.

* * *

**Alright, what'd you think?**

If you would like to read my story of Elena telling Damon that she's pregnant, it is called _Secret in Her Eyes._

And my story of Elena and Damon telling the rest of the family is called _Another Secret Surprise._

**Last, a quick poem I came up with:**

**Elena's blood is red; Damon's eyes are blue,**

**Oh please, won't you post a review!**


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